


Strange Encounters in the Fog

by ExasperantMadman



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-03-21 21:24:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13749519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExasperantMadman/pseuds/ExasperantMadman
Summary: Sometimes killing and surviving alone can get tiring and boring; as such, change is always welcomed at any opportunity.





	1. A rebellious spirit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Amydyne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amydyne/gifts).



> A collection of drabbles for my friend on her Birthday! Pairings were chosen randomly as per request.
> 
> This is my first written fanfiction and it's probably filled with mistakes and formatting errors lmao, please bear with me and my dumb ass.
> 
> Edit: Many thanks to the wonderful [lakenzie ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lakenzie/profile)for beta reading this! <3

They didn’t perform well this trial.

So far, two of them were already lost to the Entity. The first one to fall under his cleaver was the Saboteur, which was ironic, since the Saboteur had always been the one causing him the most trouble. It seemed almost poetic, felling what you could consider his nemesis.

It was easy getting the first one. After finding two of his traps broken apart, he made a note to place one in a more obvious spot from where he could monitor it from afar. It was comical really, if anyone knew any better, it almost resembled one of those rudimentary box traps placed in an open field with cheese or some other tasty treat as bait—it reminded him of old cartoons. It didn’t take long for the little troublemaker to show himself and get caught in the middle of the act.

The second time he found someone, it was actually quite embarrassing.

As he was heading over the location where a generator exploded, he thought he saw a shape shuffling along in the grass between two conveniently placed together rocks. From his angle, he couldn’t tell whether it was the Athlete or the Herbalist, as it was too dark to discern. But as he rounded the clutter of boxes nearby, he suddenly found himself tripping over a round black object. Now, this wasn’t a very uncommon occurrence in this hellish realm. The Entity constantly shifted and changed each location to its every whim; and random bits of junk here and there always changing their place wasn’t something surprising. What was surprising though, was when the object he bumped into started grunting and gasping once it made contact with his knees.

Barely stopping himself from tumbling to the ground, Evan grabbed ahold of the nearby boxes, turning to look just as bewildered as the now very visible person he appeared to have bumped into. It proved to be none other than the old lucky Trickster, whose glasses were crookedly hanging from his face, revealing a satisfyingly surprised expression—for once that signature grin wiped from his face

In the time it took Evan to catch, hook and subsequently have Ace taken by the Entity, he’d heard the distinct noise of two generators coming to life somewhere in the Suffocation Pit. That left two other generators remaining for the other survivors to complete and power the means of their salvation.

Was the time spent chasing the Trickster worth it? Probably not – he definitely could have secured more traps around and caused more havoc in the time it took Ace to die. Instead he finds himself having to hastily think and plan now where he should place his remaining traps, patrol and check up on the remaining generators and search for the remaining survivors.

Was it worth seeing the ever smug survivor surprised, fumbling and staggering off the floor?

_Oh yes._

Patrolling around the remaining generators, Evan couldn’t help but feel as if he was being watched by something. It didn’t feel like the ever present glare of the Entity, whipping his back and whispering to him. No, this felt more like a glare, someone actively trying to murder him with their eyes alone.

A grin started forming on his face, hidden behind his signature bone white mask that displayed a similar expression – a mind numbing wide grin, large enough to swallow anyone whole if the mask ever came to life.

Straightening himself, Evan turned his head slowly, looking over his shoulder for the one brave enough to stalk him. And then he saw her. The little sneak, usually evading him by slipping in the shadows was instead standing proud and facing him, defiance in her blue eyes and maybe something else – courage? He snorted, making her flinch. No. _Determination._ He could see it now, how determined she was to survive this trial.

He shook his head, laughter muffled by his mask. Was he mocking her, Nea thought. Did he think she was going to give up and be easy prey for him? Why, she had half a mind to run him to death if he wanted to sacrifice her this trial. What she didn’t know was that Evan was merely amused by her expression and stance. Such a small thing, legs shaking and ready to spring to life at the nearest opportunity; small fists clenched and ready to fight, tooth and nail; icy cold eyes shooting equally icy daggers into whatever remained of his soul that hadn’t already been claimed by this hellish Entity. He found it very amusing how determined she seemed to escape, going as far as to stand up to him – granted not much of a sight, seeing how he seemed to tower over all the survivors he encountered so far. It was commendable, and if it wasn’t for the fact that Evan was who, well, he currently was in this place, he would almost say that it was actually kind of cute.

A devilish thought came to him and the Trapper did not want to pass on an opportunity for a good laugh. He turned his back on the survivor, feigning disinterest in doing so, enough to confuse Nea and make her wonder as to why a killer would ever turn their back on a vulnerable survivor.

As she took a step forward, the Trapper suddenly turned on her, ready to lunge with his cleaver in hand raised to strike down all in his path. All at once Nea sprung to life, jumping away from the killer – and if Evan didn’t know any better, he would have mistaken her for a rabbit with how far away she jumped. He couldn’t help the deep laughter escaping him, as he couldn’t help but kneel over in laughter, barely holding himself together and supporting himself on the pile of junk in front of him; one hand slapping his knee repeatedly in amusement. Heaven’s sake, he couldn’t remember the last time he’s laughed so heartily; it definitely wasn’t in this place, although he’s had a few couple of laughs and giggles at the expense of survivors dumbly walking into his traps or running away from him scared out of their minds. Even with the constant unnerving presence he seemed to exude, he still found it very entertaining when they’d sometimes walk straight into walls or pallets, fumbling to get away from him.

Besides, he couldn’t help surprising others—fellow killers included—with unsuspecting traps. He had to keep himself occupied and entertained outside of trials somehow, and what other better way to test his traps, anyway? Walk in them himself? Good Lord, there were plenty of others out there to do it for him now, what with the Entity constantly dragging so many unsuspecting souls in.

Nea couldn’t believe what she’d just witnessed. Was the Trapper actually having fun at her expense? And laughing! Laughing at her expense! The nerve of this guy. _What a fucking asshole_ , she thought, exhaling loudly through her nostrils while her heart slowly calmed down from the slight jump scare she experienced. Anger and embarrassment quickly washed over her like an equally hot and cold shower, a feeling she absolutely detested—reminding her of the times when her parents would reprimand her when she’d tag neighbors’ houses or cars, or generally whenever the authorities would come bearing complaints from others about her. It was as infuriating as how much they were at the whims of the killers.

Before any of them could think of doing anything else, the glaring lights of a nearby generator came to life, flooding the area around them in a bright obnoxious glow. The Trapper seemed even more intimidating now, shadows cast upon his white mask. He had almost forgotten that there was another one alive and he briefly wondered who it could be, although it didn’t matter knowing that they would all end up with the same fate, one way or the other.

Relief washed over Nea, as she watched the Trapper turn and leave this time around. They still had a chance to escape this trial, one more generator and they could be free again—or at least until the Entity dragged them back into another trial for its cruel amusement. Wasting no time, Nea took off in search for the other remaining generators, dread filling her heart as Feng’s screams of pain pierced the silence of the night. They were running out of time and God if she didn’t hate this fucking twisted joke of a world she was forced to compete in. She hated the rules imposed on her more than anything; hated not having any control over anything she did in trials, always doing the same things over and over if she wanted to live. She’s always hated people telling her what to do and trying to control her, to hell with all of those fuckers! But in this sick imitation of a world, what could she fucking do? She angrily pulled on the wires inside of the generator she settled on, causing sparks and a loud explosion as the machine protested against the harsh treatment it was getting. Clenching her fists, Nea took in steady breaths to calm herself down; one more generator and she could leave this disastrous trial. She hoped it would be a while until she’d have to join another one and God, she sure as hell hoped it would be against the Wraith, she certainly needed a break from constantly double checking everything around her and fearing the imminent crushing pressure of death.

Halfway through her progression on the generator, Feng’s blood curdling scream rang out from the other side of the Pit, near the shack. Shit, she must have gotten hooked now, she couldn’t spare any more time idling away or messing around, and it was only a matter of time until the Entity materialized itself to take Feng. Guilt slithered itself in Nea’s heart, making her aware of just how selfish she appeared to other survivors, never helping or taking a hit for them. Ever since she was forced to move away from her hometown, she’d felt trapped, angry and hateful towards her parents, this place, and most of all herself. Angry at how stupid she was for having ever went to that fucking Asylum, just to prove to others how fearless she was. But it was too late now; even if some of the few friends she made, like Meg, Claudette, or Feng knew that she wasn’t as selfish as she appeared, she couldn’t change the times she left them to die. But she could try now.

There were barely any noises apart from the rustling of dead leaves in the branches above her. Nea strained to hear any signs of Feng still struggling for her life, but only the incessant cawing of crows greeted her back. Derelict walls and debris passed her as she sprinted towards the other side of the map, where she knew the dreaded basement would be, fearing the worst for her friend. Crouching towards the rusty shack, she noticed a trap placed where there once used to be a pallet, the jaws covered in old rusted blood. Grimacing, she sidestepped it, heading towards the stairs. She could hear Feng struggling in the basement, but there was no heartbeat present apart from her anxious one; this seemed too suspicious. Glancing down the stairs, she could see why now; almost every 2 steps of the stairs a trap lay in a zig-zag pattern towards the base of the stairs. _Wow, this guy is something else_ , she thought as she tiptoed in between each trap until she reached the base, in time to see the spider like claw pierce Feng’s chest.

“FUCKING SHIT!” She let out, angry at her tardiness and apprehension. _I should have fucking thrown myself down those stairs, I could have made it in time!_ Fists clenching at her sides, she only grew more frustrated as the faint sound of another’s heartbeat started beating in her ear. Of course he’d come back now, it was so painfully obvious that the basement was made to be one giant trap. Fuck it. She was getting out of this place, one way or another and she had nothing else to lose anymore. 

With a deep breath, she bolted up the stairs in an attempt to skip every two steps where she could; several traps snapped closed in her wake—barely missing her feet. Launching herself past the last two traps, she grunted upon making contact with the floor of the shack. She let go of the breath she was holding, feeling relieved she got past that ridiculous staircase. Thinking about her options, Nea briefly considered whether it was worth going back to the generator she abandoned to fix it to completion, but the Trapper probably got to it while she was making her way towards here. She could try and give him hell by hiding and sneaking from him for the rest of the trial, she supposed, the fucker definitely deserved some frustration coming his way.

The ominous but familiar sound of strange voices brought her back from her thoughts. Of course! She completely forgot about the sweet embrace of comforting nothingness the hatch provided, a one way trip back to safety. It had to be nearby, she could hear it so clearly; maybe even next to the shack, but where? She glanced around her, stopping when she noticed a pair of dirty boots a few meters away from her.

_Oh no._

She glanced up only to be greeted by the grinning mask of the Trapper, a few inches away from her face. He waved his hand at her, wiggling his fingers in a childish manner as if to mock her. It almost seemed as if this whole thing was planned by him, luring her to the shack then trapping her in those ridiculous traps – why did he even place so many? It was ridiculous!  
Evan huffed, a wave of nauseating breath hitting her nostrils, enough to make her gag then and there as she gathered herself up, enough to scramble away from him. Weary of his movements, Nea was prepared to bolt through the pallet-less door behind her and as The Trapper got up and stepped into the shack, it was exactly what she did. She could see it now, the Hatch was just outside the shack, in a spot of dark grass. With enough speed to rival Meg herself, she hopped over the trap in the doorway and smiled at the sight of her sweet escape drawing closer to her.

Her leap was cut short by the sharp sound of a trap clasping painfully on her ankle, rooting her in place right in front of the hatch. She screamed with every fiber of her being, both from the sudden sharp pain and the frustration of having been denied escape so cruelly. The Trapper was having the greatest time of his life, guffawing as he witnessed the whole event transcribed. It was too good, this had to be the funniest thing to happen in a trial by far—it even topped that one time the frightened Leader got stuck in a rusted locker for the whole trial and had to be pried out. He almost felt bad about how much he was enjoying this, seeing how the survivor was almost in tears from frustration.

After a few agonizingly long minutes, the Trapper composed himself enough to decide that the little survivor endured enough this Trial. Heading towards her, proud and smug at his handiwork, he reached over and opened the trap, releasing Nea’s ankle. He caught her before she could hit the ground from the momentum of her leg suddenly breaking free from the tight contraption – lifting her up to carry her on his shoulder. All that she could do was watch as the Hatch grew steadily smaller.

Evan patted her tigh, almost as if to comfort her for her failed attempts of escaping him, but before he could begin to mentally congratulate himself on his ingenious plan and trap placements, he too felt the sudden jaws of a trap clasp around his ankle. 

He – he forgot. 

He forgot his own trap. The one he watched her leap over. The one he himself stepped over after laughing at her own hubris.  
Nea slipped off his shoulder as he stood there motionless. She hurried back to the hatch, careful to check of any other traps that might lay hidden in the grass. Before leaping into the safety of the void, she took one last glance at the Trapper. _Dumbass,_ she thought. And then she was gone.

 _Ok_ , he thought. _I guess I deserved that._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Evan is a big smug dumbass and I love him.


	2. A trial?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to the wonderful [ artichokefuccboi ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/artichokefuccboi/profile) for beta reading this chapter! <3
> 
> Sorry this chapter was quite late, please enjoy!
> 
> For the sake of this chapter and accuracy to the lore, Laurie is modelled after the original Halloween (1978) movie similar to the in game version of the character.

There was nothing more unpleasant and soul wrenching like finishing a bad trial and immediately being sent into a new one. Having your whole team sacrificed in the first few minutes of the trial was up there too sure, but coming back from an excruciating run where you’re chased for more than an hour, only to be eventually caught and outright murdered? That definitely topped any other recent experiences.

Laurie could still recall the cold feeling of the knife right before it plunged into her gut for a second time, effectively ending her life. It seemed that almost every trial she faced, the Boogeyman would be her match, ensuring a trial of misery. If only things could go back to how they were before that one Halloween, she'd trade anything just to experience some of the normalcy of her previous life. Not that she didn't enjoy the companionship of her new friends, no. She adored them to bits and she was ever grateful for their patience in showing her the ropes, grateful for their understandings and willingness to sometimes take a hit for her when she's had a rough time, forgive her when she'd had to leave them behind. But the guilty voice inside her head, the same one always goading her on in trials and urging her to watch her own back above all else whispered, _you know they're just being nice, after all you did abandon them to the beast so many times._

Rubbing the bridge of her nose, she let out a tired sigh as she tried to compose herself – not now, she couldn’t afford to think like this now. Not when the fog had crept into the clearing and swallowed her whole. The comforting light of the campfire had long been snuffed out and she'd been left with just the option to wait until her surroundings cleared. She’d tried running away before, panicked when she found herself more lost than anything, separated from the others; worse yet, bumping into the killer just before the fog could clear. Doing that again would be like playing with fire and she certainly did not wish to get burned.

But eventually the air began to clear and Laurie could now make out the twisted forms of leafless trees piercing through the dissipating curtain of fog. Soon enough, she was greeted by the sight of a familiar landmark, a tree bent by the cruel passage of time and reduced to a hollow stump, somehow remarkably glowing through the night. The Sheltered Woods, a deeply unsettling forest she disliked, even more than the weird awkward replica the Entity deemed to recreate of her little neighborhood in Haddonfield. She didn’t like the eerie and exposed feeling she got whenever she found herself in these woods, never able to hide herself properly nor see much beyond the trees. But tonight it seemed the woods were quiet – the usual cawing of crows now silenced, leaving her breathing the only other noise through the night. 

Laurie peaked from behind the ancient tree, holding herself steadily against its body. Normally she would be glad to see no one else, she disliked putting others in danger since she seemed to have an unnatural ability to attract killers to her; but this felt different. Looking around her, she realized that she couldn’t even pinpoint the location of the killer. _It’s the Boogeyman_ , a thought flashed through her mind, leaving a trail of cold dread behind it before she buried it deep within her. Although she did not see anyone else, she did spot a generator dormant from between the trees a short distance ahead. The crescent moon smiled down on her, before it too was engulfed by dark clouds, leaving the soft glow of the tree as her only light source. She peered onto the opposite side, trying to discern any sort of movement between the trees, but nothing else seemed to live in the dead forest. Where was everyone else? She didn’t hear any screams nor could she see any generators being fixed.

On shaky legs, she quietly made her way towards the outline of the generator she spotted earlier in the dark. The usual sources of light in trials – barrels with wood and unknown bits of trash lit on fire – were now uncharacteristically snuffed out. Her hand hovered over the top of the barrel nearby before lowering to tap at the fire source; cold, long burned out. _Was this a trial?_ It had to be, she thought, she’s been in this place before and everything else seemed to be exactly the same: generators, chests and even the dreaded shack whose presence made her uncomfortable each trial. She hoped that whoever her teammates happened to be this trial they were safe, as no generators, screams nor anything else but the sound of silence prevailed through the night. The thought of the Boogeyman grabbing someone unsuspectingly to snuff their life out briefly passed through her mind, a reasoning her mind tried to desperately pin to explain the prevailing silence.

She really hoped she was wrong. 

Quietly, she made her way towards the nearest generator, nearly missing it if it weren’t for the soft glow of the tree. Feeling around the outline of the machine, she pried open the front panel to reveal the mesh of wires, cogs and screws underneath, but something didn’t seem right. At a first glance she couldn’t notice anything wrong with the machinery – now, she was no expert trained to operate on these machines but having spent so much time in this place was enough to teach her how to fix these generators – all the wires appeared to be in the right place, cogs, screws, nothing seemed amiss, everything all the other survivors taught her to look for and fix seemed to already be replaced, and yet the generator remained dormant. 

A terrible realisation dawned on her, if the generators couldn’t be powered then would she have any means to power the doors out of this hellish place? Panic swelled in her chest and without a moment to spare, Laurie took off blindly into the dark, tripping and stumbling on the crooked roots of trees, stopping only once she nearly collided with the outskirt walls. The bricks were cold underneath her clammy hands, a feeling normally welcomed but which only served to fuel her anxiety now. She began the agonizingly slow search for the exit gates, stopping at every unique bend and curve to make sure she wouldn’t miss it, her fingers lined every crack, irregularity and hole; she only began searching more urgently when she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up with an unpleasant familiarity.

_It’s watching me._

Expecting to see an impassive white mask when she turned, she was surprised to find only darkness greeting her back. Still, Laurie still felt uncannily uncomfortable, as if she was being watched from the shadows and this thought only served to fuel her determination to find the exit gates and escape. But she soon discovered what she had feared most, the corroded metal doors of the gate shut tightly. She pulled at the lever for what felt like ages before giving up in annoyance after all the effort; it seemed that she wasn’t going anywhere after all. 

This cursed place and the cruel being overlooking their torment found new ways of feeding on their hopes with each day, night or whatever sort of mockery passed for time here. All that was left now was for the Boogeyman to come out of the shadows and make this whole experience more miserable to her and a part of her nearly wished for it to happen, just so she would at last return to the feeble comfort of the campfire, if only for a brief moment. But as seconds passed in anticipation for the beast, everything around her remained eerily still and quiet. No breathing, no movement, no glinting knife in sight. Was she truly alone? Surely the Entity wouldn’t throw her into a trial by herself, what would be the point of that? Or was it just waiting for her to expire, to lose all hope as she eventually succumbed to a slow and painful death? Laurie felt tired, not just physically tired, but tired of everything, being tense all the time, ready at any opportunity to dart away or strike at her foe. It’s been so long since she had a few hours’ worth of rest, unable to even find solace in her dreams as they were now plague by sinister laughter and glimpses of red and green caught at every corner. She felt tired, truly tired of being strong and for once, Laurie caved in and let tears trickle down her dirty cheeks.

With a sob, she turned and walked back through the dark to the only landmark visible – with every step she anticipated the white mask of her most dreaded adversary to emerge from the shadows, a long arm shooting out to strangle her or a sharp knife lodged between her shoulder blades. She slumped down against the tree, the bark cool to the touch and welcoming against her feverish skin. _Was this all that her life amounted to_ , she mused bitterly. Some psychopath’s obsession and now some plaything for the Entity and it’s puppets to mess her up? Never mind the fact that she didn’t even get to experience college and make a name for herself. God, she didn’t even date that much, she remembers bitterly the conversation she had with Annie before things started going bad that night. 

_God, Annie. And Linda._ How she missed them. 

Silent tears rolled down her cheeks followed shortly by sobs as she tried to relive her past before the nightmare. Her sobs only grew more desperate as she struggled to even remember the events prior to that fateful Halloween night. Her fists clenched tightly into her hair, elbows propped up on her raised knees as Laurie curled more into herself. How pitiful that this was what her life amounted to now, pain, misery and false promises of hope and safety. 

But the soft sound of ringing bells through the otherwise quiet night brought Laurie back to the present and she moved to quickly wipe at her eyes. As she briefly reveled in the soothing sounds, she watched as a figure emerged out of the shadows, slowly advancing towards her with each step. Tall broad defined shoulders, hidden underneath a spotted cowl, the rest of its body covered in filthy and fresh bandages. They looked at each other – Laurie surprised to see a different killer from the Shape as she always seemed to be matched against him now – while the Wraith seemed surprised to find only her. They regarded each other for a few moments before Laurie sniffled and wiped any remaining tears from her eyes and cheeks. Her heart beat wildly in her chest at the realisation that there was indeed a killer with her in this place but she quickly noticed the lack of another’s heart beat in her ears besides her own, usually persisting in the presence of a killer. Still, she couldn’t overcome the feeling of defenselessness she felt, opting to remain in her spot and wait for the killer to end this.

On slow strides, The Wraith slowly approached her, his signature mace nowhere in sight, but she was sure that he didn’t need a weapon to striker her down into nothingness. He spared one last glance around before doing something unordinary to her: take a seat beside her. As she watched him carefully settle next to her, stretching his legs out in front of him, his hands hidden underneath his cowl, she spared a quick glance at his face, noting that he was staring ahead into the dark before returning her gaze back to her knees. It’s unsure how long they stayed together in silence for, but Laurie couldn’t deny how peaceful it felt to just be, sitting really, not running for your life for once. If anything she did feel just a tad uncomfortable, but it was to be expected surely. For most of her time in this place she’d always been in the presence of others, fellow survivors, some she’d come to care for dearly, or in the presence of the one person she dreaded the most. But in this moment of silence in each other’s presence, Laurie couldn’t help but feel somehow strangely at peace.

The silence stretched on between them, the Wraith’s heavy sounds of ragged breathing the only other noise besides her own quiet breaths. She wondered if he’d always breathed this bad, she never got a chance to hear him much in trials as she only really faced him a couple of times, maybe even less than the number of fingers you could count on a hand. She remembers though, quite vividly, her first encounter with him: how surprised they both were when they both quite literally bumped into each other, the Wraith taken aback when she seemed to be capable of seeing him while cloaked. She remembers how he followed her around that game after the others died, what she perceived at first as some sort of game of weird intimidation were he followed her around from a distance until he grabbed her away from the hatch. But in hind sight now, it felt more like he was observing her, testing her ability to see him. Thinking about it now, him peeking from behind the corners of buildings then darting back behind them when she reacted to his moves did seem very uncharacteristic of him.

She muses back to her very first encounters. Remembers them all as a matter of fact, each more harrowing and monstrous than the last. Ironically, monsters used to be just stories to her, things she’d safeguard against for the children she babysat, reassuring them that she’d keep them safe from any creature out to get them; but she knew better now the more time she spent in this place. Even though some of these killers closely resembled monsters from a child’s book, some more hideous and twisted than the rest, it terrified her to realise that the only monsters here were the ones closely resembling them, the ones that would eagerly inflict great horrors on others with no cause. 

Moments passed, minutes stretched into hours. It was still just the two of them and whatever hopes Laurie had that someone else would eventually show up have been long quashed by now. She glanced towards her companion but he remained as impassive as before. He seemed calm and content in their current predicament but she’d always pegged him as a calm and calculated killer from her run-ins with him, in no small thanks to her unnatural ability to see _them_ – it proved to be a useful skill sometimes, helping her pinpoint the exact location of a killer and whether they were preoccupied enough with someone else for her to do objectives, but it had been her downfall more than once as well, leaving her to often be the first sacrificed or hurt. To see him now so content to just be in her presence, it did flatter her a bit. But as much as she enjoyed this comforting silence between them, she couldn’t help worrying for her fate this trial. Building enough courage, she leaned back from her previously guarded pose and turned to face him.

“Are – are we the only ones here?”

The Wraith seemed surprised to hear her, and if she hadn’t known any better, she could have sworn he would have looked startled by her voice. Now, by some unspoken rule, Laurie never spoke in trials. None of them ever did, only gestured and pointed their intentions. They never really understood why they never did, never felt compelled to do it in the first place, maybe out of fear of being found or out of fear of compromising their fellow survivors. It almost felt taboo breaking the silence now, and for a moment Laurie expected some ungodly force would punish her for this transgression. For the longest time he stared at her and if he hadn’t nodded in the end, Laurie would have thought she would have truly been punished for her brief moment of courage, or maybe stupidity.

She frowned however, worried by his confirmation.

“Did you get to the others before me? Did you – did you kill them?” she added quietly.

He cocked his head, seemingly intrigued by her assumption before slowly shaking his head in disagreement. Bringing his hand up, he moved it in an open circle around them before pausing to point at the both of them and the ground below them. 

“Oh” she was taken aback by his mimicking and before it could register to her she asked with concern, “Are you ok? Can you not speak?”

The Wraith regarded her, a bit surprised that she seemed more concerned about his wellbeing than her own safety. He nodded and paused, as if to think of a better way to express himself. Making sure that she was paying attention to him, his arm came up to slowly wrap around his throat before opening his mouth to croak a few incomprehensible gurgles. 

It made sense now, Laurie thought, why he always seemed to be perpetually groaning and snarling, even when at peace like this. She felt a bit sorry for him and when she expressed her apology for inquiring into something personal about him, it surprised her to feel the Wraith’s gentle hand on her shoulder. She sheepishly smiled at him before returning her gaze back to her knees.

Slowly, Laurie began to open up more to her companion, each time making sure that she was watching for the other’s responses. She’d come to learn that he was as confused as her with the circumstances of this weird trial they found themselves in. From what she could make out from his depictions, the Wraith only found her in the enclosure of this place with no other traces of anyone else present. He seemed concerned when he found out that Laurie couldn’t fix any generator she inspected and was alarmed at the implication of the doors being closed shut as well. He offered to take another look at their surroundings; this time with Laurie closely following behind him; but after searching every nook and crevice, even the basement – to which Laurie waited anxiously at the top of the stairs of – they couldn’t find any way out. She mentioned how when the time comes and they’re called to a trial, they’re always brought by a thick fog, but they’ve never before been sent by themselves like she had been, nor had they ever be summoned into a trial without first gathering at a campfire. She remembers once before being summoned to a campfire only for the fog to quickly dissipate and find herself back on the path to the survivors’ camp. They started to suspect that maybe this wasn’t a trial at all. But if it wasn’t, why were they summoned here in the first place? Could it be that the Entity made a mistake?

“What if it won’t let us go until – until you kill me?” Laurie nearly whispered, staring at the pebbles underneath her worn shoes. 

The Wraith stopped from his search, turning fast in his tracks to face Laurie, enough to make her flinch in fear. But instead of pain or deliverance of death, he knelt down to her level in an almost gentle manner, bringing his hands to rest on her shoulders. His eyes were mesmerising from this close distance, reminding her of a cats’ eyes staring at her from within a dark alleyway, but instead of anger or hatred towards her, she could only see worry in his eyes, a feeling she was very accustomed too. She felt ashamed with this thing, this man looking at her as if she was a small lost child in need of comfort. Her hands came up to cover her face and she took a moment to take a deep breath, calming herself. _How ironic_ , she thought, _it feels like I’m the one being babysat right now_.

“Ok, ok” she nodded sluggishly,” I’m sorry, I should be more positive! “, she laughed, albeit a bit forcefully before she looked back to meet the Wraith’s gaze. He only nodded before standing back up, his hand lingering against her shoulder blades. He led them both back to the old tree where they took a seat once more, deciding to wait and see if eventually the mist would clear and they’d be brought back to their campfires. 

They talk for a while, or more accurately, Laurie does and he listens, occasionally chiming in with gestures of his own, going as far as scribbling in the dirt where things were still unclear. They exchange pleasantries, introduce themselves, talk about their favourite things: colours, foods, subjects, things they like and loved to do before. She laughs at his shocked expressions when she gossips about her friends and their unscrupulous behaviour, smiles when he urges her to tell him more with intrigue in his eyes. She’s surprised to find out that they have so many small things in common, that he’s actually so easy to talk to. She feels uneasy that this being, so worried and nice to her now would not have mercy on her under different circumstances. Maybe in another life, she muses, they could have been good friends, but the realisation that he was quite a decent fellow doesn’t sit quite well with her, and it only fans the flames of questions burning deep within her. She only asks him once, quietly as to not incur his wrath, why he does it; why does he kill them, but the look of utter sorrow on his face, the pain in his eyes is enough to make her understand and she suddenly sees it.

_I never meant any of it at all._

She whispers apologies, watches as he points and gestures, long fingers like spider legs, plucking a pebble and pointing it at her. Watches him place it down between them, hears his laboured breathing and sees his hand crawl to hold the other in a vice like grip; sees his bone white knuckles and how hard he holds his arm back, but the hand still strikes the ground in front of him, hitting the pebble each time again and again. Her hands come to stop his and she cries, apologises for everything and nothing, she doesn’t know what else to say but sorry. She understands then that they’re not the only ones tortured in this world at all and so she weeps for this man, her killer. Even as his other hand comes up to wipe away her face and ask why she is crying, the tears flow more. Between hiccups, she tells him everything that’s been eating at her ever since that fateful night. Oh her tormentor, how merciless he is, hounding her from a time before this place and destroying everything in his path until he’s left with nothing but his prize. He knows, for they’ve all seen the Boogeyman’s work and how favoured he is by the one in charge of this all. But there is nothing he can do outside his own powers, he has no sway over the other killers’ trials nor is he favoured enough to grant him the means to ease her suffering. He has her look upon his gestures, imparting whatever wisdom he can offer for he wants her to be strong, to have hope despite whatever might happen. He knows it in his bones that this place will try it’s best to destroy them so he needs her to be strong, to be the same determined survivor he knows he faces when he meets her in their trials. 

For now, he only has himself to offer and the poor comfort of his being, so he opens his arms wide hoping that he’s not overstepping their boundaries by being too personal but he doesn’t have to wait for long before Laurie buries herself in his chest, her sobs muffled by his cowl. It feels strange but so much welcomed, he can’t remember the last time he’s held someone close to him, even more the last time he was held. His throat feels like it’s on fire, he wishes he could desperately say something, scream, howl, anything, calming words or whisper its ok but all he can do is growl out what he hopes is a noise quiet enough to pass for a hoarse hum. With a sigh he draws her close, his hand comes up to smooth her hair out and cradle her head while he tries to hum as best as he can. Her skin is burning to the touch and her voice is getting hoarse, but he can’t bring himself to stop her. She needs this, needs to cry it all out at least once. He’s seen the determination in her eyes in every trial, focused on surviving for they all know the price they pay for failure.

Eventually the sobbing stops but his hands don’t loosen their hold on her. It’s only when he hears her breathing become even and deep that he let’s go just a bit to bring her arms around his neck and hoist her up onto his back. The fog around them thickens and he considers whether this was all the Entity’s plan from the very beginning, but he’s heard from others of similar mistakes before of how they’ve answered the call of a trial to only discover two or less survivors with no means of escaping. He hopes that if it happens again, whoever they would face would be understanding. 

He’s unsure of how long he’s been walking for; several times he encounters others in his path who look surprised to see a survivor in his arms so calm and willing. The Huntress offers twice to relieve him of his burden but each time his hands clench just a bit tighter while he declines as nicely as he can before he continues on his way. He’s stopped by Evan once, who looks at him sternly with his arms crossed but Philip only stares back and tilts his head as if to say _It’s fine, it’s just this once_ , and he’s rewarded with a chuckle before the Trapper returns to his previous business. The sound of muffled heavy breathing from the shadows makes him break into a cold sweat several times and he doesn’t need to look to know that he’ll be met back with a blank stare. His pace increases until he can’t hear him anymore, until he eventually sees the flickering light of a burning fire from between the trees.

There are rules, he knows, he’s meant to stay away from the survivor’s campsite and so he stops as close as he can from it without being seen or heard by others. He makes sure one last time that the girl is fine and her ghastly shadow hasn’t followed them before he retreats back in the shadows of the trees, becoming one with them. There he waits a bit before striking his bell several times loud enough to startle anyone nearby and he watches as she rouses from her slumber just as he vanishes into the spirit world. 

Philip watches as she makes her way towards her camp. His heart skips a beat when she turns and seemingly stares straight at him and he questions again whether she can see him after all, but her eyes dart to the woods around him before returning to the fire. As she disappears between the silhouettes of the trees, determination burns deep within his chest, to do whatever he can to make things more manageable for them all, even if it’s insignificant nothings. 

He hopes that he will see more of her in future trials.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Both of these characters have tragic backgrounds and I think about them a lot.


End file.
